


shut up and dance

by justbecauseyoubelievesomething



Series: Writer's Month 2020 Prompts [12]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Met on the Ark Station (The 100), Canon Compliant, Gen, Preteen Clarke Griffin, Teenager Bellamy Blake, The Ark Station, high school dance, ish, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26052274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbecauseyoubelievesomething/pseuds/justbecauseyoubelievesomething
Summary: Bellamy hates dancing. Or maybe he just needs a partner...A Bellarke one-shot for Writer's Month 2020. Prompt 12: meet cute.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Clarke Griffin
Series: Writer's Month 2020 Prompts [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863823
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	shut up and dance

Bellamy hates dancing.

It’s the one characteristic about himself that he’s confident will never change.

Yet, his mother insists on this dance. It’s his senior year, she cajoles. He needs to go at least once. For the experience.

Or something.

He honestly still wouldn’t have gone if Octavia hadn’t bounced up to him with an armful of combs and hair gels and pleaded with him to do his hair for the big dance.

He can’t say no to Octavia.

So now he lingers on the edges of the room, jam packed with gyrating teenagers, and he tries not to count the seconds until he can reasonably flee back to the apartment.

The speakers are booming with some sort of bass line and Bellamy assumes that if he could hear the melody it might even be catchy. Instead, the vibrations go right through his bones until it feels like his teeth are rattling in his jaw.

He’s definitely going to be nursing a headache tomorrow.

“Wells! Wells, stop!”

The distinctly feminine voice cuts through the droning beat in his ears and he turns slightly just in time to see a lanky kid, definitely younger than the rest of the crowd, dart out onto the dance floor before any of the chaperoning guards notice him. Intrigued, Bellamy turns a little more just as a short girl barrels into him.

“Oh no! I’m so so sorry!”

Bellamy steadies her, barely having stumbled under her slight weight.

“Oh, it’s no problem.”

They’re shouting to be heard over the throbbing music.

She looks up at him and  _ wow _ she’s short. And so  _ young _ . Hardly older than Octavia.

“Um, I don’t think you’re supposed to be here,” Bellamy stammers.

Wrong thing to say.

The girl crosses her arms and scrunches her nose at him in a way that is decidedly more adorable than she means it to be. Tendrils of her blond hair fall loose from her braid and she huff them away from her eyes with a sharp breath.

“I’m aware of that,” she says. “I was trying to get my friend to come home with me before we get into trouble.”

“That boy that ran out there?” Bellamy nods towards the mass of teenagers behind him who are really dancing too close to each other. Gross.

The girl leans around him to glance at the mob and her eyes widen slightly before she sighs. “Yeah, he’s somewhere out there. I’ll never find him now.”

“I can… I can help,” Bellamy offers before he can stop himself.

The girl’s eyes widen a little more and she brightens visibly. “Would you? That would be… I mean… I would really appreciate…”

Bellamy laughs a little at her stuttering thanks and waves his hand. “It’s not like I’m doing anything over here anyways.”

“Why? You don’t like to dance?”

He can feel the tic in his jaw as he stares at the girl and he’s not quite sure why she’s bothering him so much.

“I… can dance.”

“But you don’t like to.” She’s so matter of fact. Like she’s got him all figured out.

Bellamy grits his teeth. “What are you anyways… twelve?”

She blushes and it lights up her porcelain skin like wildfire. “So?”

“So… what do you know about it anyways? You’re not even old enough to be here.”

Why he’s arguing with a twelve year old is beyond Bellamy.

Probably because she’s not backing down.

She juts her chin in defiance as she takes a step closer and holds out her hands.

“I’ll show you.”

“What?”

She nods towards her outstretched hands. “It can be fun. I’ll show you.”

The music shifts into a lighter upbeat tune, a fast drumbeat cutting through the lilting melody.

Bellamy blinks at the girl.

“If you think I’m dancing like that-” he jerks his head back towards the dance floor again, “-with a literal twelve year old…”

The girl scowls. “I mean real dancing. I’m not a pervert.”

Before he can protest again, she grabs his hands and does some sort of swinging motion that actually does match the beat.

“I don’t think you’re one either,” she clarifies.

He snorts. “Gee, thanks.”

Then she’s tugging him faster and he thinks he might actually be dancing. The way she dances is so… child-like. Almost like dancing with Octavia around and around the table. Yet there’s something more serious in her eyes. Some sort of effort she’s putting into this, to match their steps perfectly, to keep him in step with the drums. He finds himself letting her lead, despite the fact that she’s a full head shorter than him. He falls into her rhythm effortlessly and as his pulse rises and the music reaches a crescendo he realizes he’s grinning. The girl is smiling too and it feels brilliant to be laughing and dancing and spinning together. The room around them blends together with the music and it feels like something wild racing just under their feet. Like they’re standing on the brink of chaos and if they’re not careful, they’ll slip under. But he follows his dance partner and their steps match and the music follows them right to the end.

Bellamy steps back breathless and smiling, heart pounding.

The girl’s braid is completely loose, only a few strands desperately clinging to each other behind her neck. The rest of her blond hair streams around her shoulders, splayed out like a cape from all their spinning. She smiles back at him and he loves it. Loves whatever this is.

“Hey, what’s your name?” he asks.

She opens her mouth to answer but what comes out is a screech of “Wells!” and suddenly the lanky boy from earlier is tackling her out of nowhere.

Bellamy helps them both to their feet and the boy dusts himself off for a second before he grabs the girl’s hand. “Come on! I think the guards saw me!”

Bellamy glances around the perimeter of the room and sure enough the chaperones are in some kind of commotion, pushing their way through the dance floor, checking IDs.

The boy tugs the girl quickly down the hall, using Bellamy’s wider frame as a shield. “Come on!”

The girl turns briefly and gives one last smile to Bellamy before they both vanish around the corner. Leaving Bellamy feeling more than a little worn out and rattled and with a sort of aching happiness still rippling through his veins.

Maybe dancing isn’t so bad.


End file.
